


Hampstead Fugue

by bradypnoea



Series: Composition Compilation [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Character Study, Comfort/Angst, Consent Issues, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Friendship/Love, Navigating Emotions, Old Friends, POV Female Character, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bradypnoea/pseuds/bradypnoea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is only trying to enjoy her birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a character building exercise that got away from me. I've been hiding it in my Docs for longer than I care to admit, editing bits every few days in the hope that one day I would be completely satisfied. I realised that was quite unlikely and it was high time to let it see daylight. Fair warning: this wasn't meant to be a compelling, plot-driven piece, it will develop slowly, and I can't promise any action and/or excitement.

I am being kissed. 

It is my birthday and I am being kissed. This is noteworthy for a few reasons, chief two of which being relatively dependent upon one another: I have not been kissed in quite some time, and I have never been kissed quite this nicely on any of my previous birthdays.

I am standing in a hall of my mate Jamie's building, just outside her door actually.  She left me here to "pop back for her jacket", and it feels like she's been gone for quite some time, not that I'm counting. Have I mentioned someone is kissing me? I've thus far assumed I am being kissed by a man purely on the basis of height, though I could be wrong. I am not the tallest woman I know on flat feet but right now I am standing in shoes with what I know to be a 12 centimetre heel. As I stand here being kissed, my head is just shy of uncomfortable inclination.

I am also blindfolded. Forgive me for that omission.

There are the respective thrills of being kissed unexpectedly and being blindfolded, and there is the combined thrill of experiencing both at once.  Luckily for me this person seems to be fairly committed to enhancing the experience. I have definitely been kissed with less tact and this would be far more discomforting if say, my entire mouth was being licked. This kissing, surprising though it is, feels endearing rather than aggressive.

That being established, I'm relatively confused to say the least. I hadn't heard anyone approach me or announce themselves, and I can say with confidence Jamie's door opened and closed only once. It seems unlikely a passing stranger would be nearly so bold as to force themselves upon a woman clearly waiting for something, but I suppose women have been forced upon for less.

This line of thought ruins the mood a bit. Should I be more affronted at my kisser? Should I have immediately rejected this person for brazenly dismissing any idea that I did not want to be kissed? Probably both, but I can bring myself to neither. So here I am, being kissed and inadvertently kissing back.

I had been informed that there would be a birthday surprise following shortly which apparently required that I go without sight; this idea was slightly less worrisome before someone had their own idea for a surprise. The more I consider this, the more distracted I am, the less exciting this kissing becomes, regardless of how endearing it is. It’s my birthday and I’m not taking such rudeness lying down, or standing still in my case.

I move to stand up straight, though this doesn't disrupt the kisser. My hands stop resting lamely against my legs and come up to the knot of my blindfold. They are immediately covered by calloused hands that all but assure my assaulter is male. "Assaulter" may be a bit unkind, but it seems to be the most suitable descriptor in this particular instance, taking into account that my consent was neither asked nor granted. My mouth has been released and now I am being breathed on which is almost worse. I've had just about enough of this.

My wrists are held fast and are now being moved gently in to rest in front of me. It reminds me of being handcuffed. The assaulter seems to acknowledge this and instead takes each hand in one of his own. Now I feel like a child and no less angry.

"Jamie?" I shout. I am promptly shushed, _shushed_!

"Don't bloody shush me! How dare you—" A steady tapping begins on my left wrist. It means ' _no_ '. Technically this is a panicked stream of 'no's in quick succession. There is a very small number of people who have communicated with me in such a manner. I'm stunned into silence upon realising one of these people is restraining me, however gently, outside the flat of someone who must be a mutual friend.

My tone is much quieter, "Who is this? Why are you doing this?"

Another tap, another _no_. Well this just won't do.

"I am not playing Twenty Questions with you! I'm standing in a hall fucking blindfolded and you consider having your way with me to be a magnificent idea? Even if you won't speak I know you must be smarter than that." I imagine what a scene this must be. A well-dressed woman in a blindfold scolding a man who’s forgotten how to speak words.

On my right arm a finger traces a circle, which means ' _I'm sorry_ ' if I remember correctly. I'm nothing short of baffled.

"Where is Jamie?"

Left tap.

"Why are you here?"

Left tap.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Right circle.

"Listen, the only reason I'm refraining from physically attacking you right now is the fact that you apparently consider yourself my friend. I want you to realise that you may not be if you continue to restrain me like a fucking prisoner."  Since I've started this one-sided conversation no further advance, sexual or otherwise has been made. This man is apparently doing nothing but staring at me as I admonish him. This only serves to irritate me further.

"You have nothing better to do right now than leer at me?"

Right circle. Right.

"Let me go this instant," I thrash my hands out of his grip, expecting far greater resistance, and throw myself off balance. Hands on my shoulders stabilise me before I feel a kiss quickly pressed to my cheek. "Get away from me!" I try to push him away but he's already moved out of my reach.

I hear a door open and close to my right, Jamie's is the only flat in that direction. I struggle with the blindfold, it won't move past my nose so I tear it from the top of my head and storm at Jamie's door.

It's locked. The fucking thing is locked.

In the seconds between this discovery and my entire body launching at the door I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around fast in hope I won't appear to be violently breaking into someone's home.  

It's Avery. Avery is walking toward me. All at once my anger is channelled into elation and I have never been so happy to see anyone. I launch myself at him instead. He barely gets out a startled "Ray?" before I've crashed into him, but he's caught me without hesitation.

"My darling Avery I haven't seen you in so long! What are you doing here?" My voice is muffled as I'm crushed to his chest. I'm surprised he hears me over his own laughter.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"

"Excuse you, it's my birthday! Jamie and I have a whole night planned!" I hike my thumb over my shoulder towards her door.

"I haven't forgotten! And there's a post on your Facebook wall, so excuse you!" I'm hugged tighter for a moment. "I didn't know Jamie lived here, my mate Shane is just next door. I'd love to pop in to see her if you two don't mind?"

I step away from him, slightly embarrassed. Adults don't 'launch themselves' at one another. "I certainly don't mind, but I think she may have me locked out. She went back in to get her coat and left me standing out here!" She also left me to be assaulted, but that may not be appropriate conversation at the moment.

"How very untoward. We'll have a word with her, come along."  I smile as we both approach the door.  I raise my hand to knock but Avery holds up his own up before I can.  

"Here, let me."  He pounds on her door dramatically, "James Christian! You open this door right now!"

I hear hurried footsteps as she shouts back, "Coming! Hang on! I'll be right there!"

She's having trouble with her own door. Avery and I share a look. At this point, the blindfolding, the kissing, the locking, I have no idea what to say. The door swings open before I can think of anything, revealing Jamie to be out of breath and suspiciously coatless. She beams when she sees Avery beside me, which is annoying.

"Avery, hello! It's been entirely too long. How have you been?"

I speak before Avery can reply, "Jamie what the fuck—" He puts a hand on my shoulder and I feel myself flinch.

"Yes Jamie! What is this? It is our dear friend Ríoghnach's birthday and here you are locking her out after promising a night of frivolity?"

She snaps her mouth shut and stares at me until the cogs start to turn. "Ray I am so sorry I was getting my coat and Max knocked a vase off the bookcase..." I watch her hands move in the air as she clearly lies to me. I hope my expression is conveying my level of extreme disbelief. "...since you're here, Avery, would you like to come in? We could have a drink before Ray and I leave!"

Avery is more willing to forgive her behaviour. He laughs out loud and moves from my side to hug her soundly. They start walking farther into Jamie's and I stay back just to be petulant, whose birthday is it again?

Jamie notices I haven't followed, she turns around and calls to me. "Well come on! The tequila won't drink itself!"

I yell back, "Oh am I allowed to enter now? Have I been deemed worthy?" I absolutely refuse to be forgotten on the one day reserved for me.

Avery and Jamie are stood in the middle of her living room as they watch me stalk in.  I'm barely five steps through the door before she puts her hands up, "Okay, stop." I freeze dead and cross my arms.

"Calm down. I didn’t forget tonight belongs to you, and we're going to have a good time! But there's one thing we have to do first."

I'm nearly tackled from behind, "Surprise!"

I immediately begin shouting. People spring out from behind Jamie's couch, run out from the bedrooms, pop up in her kitchen. Their hands raise up high as they shout back at me in an endearing attempt at unison.

"Surprise!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's roughly pronounced “REE-oh-nock”, but she understands if you have trouble with it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol mention!

Do I actually know all these people? There are so many people!

I've got an iron grip on the arms around my waist, thankfully female this time. She lets go and moves to face me.

It's my sister.

It's my sister and now I'm crying. This is noteworthy for a few reasons, chief two of which being relatively dependent on one another: I haven't seen my sister in two years, and I'm a big fat baby.

Everyone has started to circle and move around me. They are laughing and cheering and I am flat sobbing. Heaving, gasping, ugly sobs and I can't control my face. I feel my sister hugging me proper and rubbing my back and I'm having difficulty keeping my knees locked.

Dáiríne pulls away, one hand on my shoulder, the other swiping under my eye. "No no lovely, no crying on your birthday! Everyone is here for you! Breathe!" I begin to laugh, an awful choking sound.

"I can't stop, Day, I didn't think I had this many friends!" Everyone laughs and I feel more tears run down my face as my eyes squeeze shut.

"I know! You have to say hi to everyone though, so calm down!" I've managed a few breaths now so she lets me stand on my own but continues rubbing my back.

"Hi everyone!" I wave with both hands like an overwhelmed five year old. I cough up one final sob and hug my sister again. Jamie has moved through to me and is handing me a tissue, bless. I'm laughing as I dry off my face, "I was so mad at you! How did you do all of this?"

"It would have been easier if Avery showed up on time!" She points back to him and I hear a collective noise of disappointment as he shrugs. "But we pulled it off because we love you!"

"Don't, I'm going to start crying again!" I hug Jamie quickly, then move to hug everyone I can find.

I'm floored at seeing just how many people are here. Friends from England, friends from Ireland, from India and the US and France and Russia and Germany; friends from work, friends from school, friends I never imagined I would have, friends I never thought I could keep.

It's been so long since I felt so loved and it really could not have come at a better time and I've been hugging my sister every few minutes simply because she's within hugging distance. Everyone is getting along. Some have gathered into their respective groups and some have introduced themselves to one another. It's all I can do to maintain a conversation without breaking into tears again.

Control of the stereo has changed hands probably twelve times; someone keeps trying to sneak in some Banjo Classics mix and I've half a mind to kick them out. I've been handed drinks by at least ten different people, two of whom think it’s somehow acceptable to mix coconut rum and cinnamon whisky. I can’t begin to guess what time it is but I can tell you as of right now I have been dancing in the middle of Jamie's sitting room for a solid forty minutes, and I haven’t a single clue where all of her furniture has gone.

A familiar guitar melody kicks in and I shriek. Tom always sings this song with me. I know I saw him around here somewhere. Someone slams into the back of me when I spin around to find him. It’s just my sister _again_ , so I hug her _again_ and we dance together for a moment. I ask her if she’s seen Tom, she shrugs and shakes her head. Stepping away from the mass of flailing bodies, I search the room... Nothing. I wonder if he left without speaking to me at all, that dick. No that’s not fair, Tom would sooner lose a limb before being impolite to his friends, or at least me anyway.

I see Jamie and Avery standing in the kitchen, I may as well ask them. I trip over something as I move through her flat. Nearly drop my drink too. The two of them are are laughing about something as I get close enough to hear.

"Hello twinkle toes, are you enjoying your party?" Jamie asks, as she wraps an arm behind me and rests her cheek on my shoulder.

"Absolutely! Have either of you seen Tom?"

"Easy young one, the whole county doesn't need to hear you!"

"Sorry!" I whisper. "I saw him earlier but I can't find him now!" Jamie looks at Avery. I look at Avery.

"Ah," He scratches his beard, "I think he's in the garden, but don't quote me on that. He said something about getting air."

"It’s not like there isn’t air inside." This sparks my memory, "Guys, I have an odd question." I hope I'm still whispering. It sounds like I am. They're looking at me intently.

"Yeah? Out with it!"

"Oh! Yes. Ah, was there anyone out in the hall with me? Before I came in?" I remember the cup in my hand, I try to drink from it but it is apparently empty. Rude. I flip it into the sink where it immediately bounces out and onto the floor.

Jamie laughs, "Yeah babe, Avery was there."

"No, yeah I know that, was there anyone else? Who in hell is Shane by the way?"

"There is no Shane, that was a blatant fucking lie. Am I not good enough to occupy a hall with you?"

"You're a marvellous hall occupant, but there was someone else! I think he left right before you walked up." I point to Avery, "He had to have come in here! I heard the door! He knew the taps! I tried to follow him but Jamie had the door locked!"

"I did not! No one followed me after I came in to 'get my coat!'"

"Right! Shame on you both for lying to me! I was assaulted out there!"

"You were what!" "What?"

“Which reminds me!” I reach into my pocket, “Here’s your blindfold, not that it did any good!” I thrust it forward in my clenched fist instead of throwing it at her face like I really want.

“Did you say _assaulted_?"

"Yes, you shameful liars. Tapman kissed me without asking! I was—” I shake my fist ”—fucking blindfolded! Then he came in here! I mean it wasn't not nice but still, he did not ask if I wanted to be kissed! There is a non-consensual kisser in this flat! I will find them out! Who else would remember a stupid drama exercise?" I cross my arms.

They look at each other. Jamie holds up a finger, "Well there's us three, obviously. There's Danny, Theresa," more fingers go up, "Arthur, Geeta, Seb, Keegan, May, Tom, Frankie, Gwen, Jon— Jon! It was Jon!" I'm confused. Jon has never expressed any interest in kissing me.

Avery is nodding though. "I could see that, the guy has always been taken with you. Something like this is right up his street.” That's not right. Jon isn't taken with me. Jon didn’t like me at all till I practically wrote his ethics dissertation for him.

"Jon doesn't want to kiss me! Jon's still upset I got better marks than him."

"Maybe it was a cover!" Jamie turns me toward her and latches onto my elbows. "I'm going to go find him! That kind of behaviour is not okay! How dare he, and in my flat too!" She pushes away and starts out the kitchen.

"James don't! It's really not— It was in the hall!" I grasp at the air behind her. My shoulders slump. I wasn't intending to spark a confrontation. Not tonight, anyway. I turn back to Avery.

"I dunno, I just don't see it."

He shrugs, "Beats me, Ray. It'll be all right. Go find Tom, I think he has to leave soon." He hugs me and rests his chin on my head. "I mean the country, I think he's leaving the country soon."

"Okay, I'm going. Don't let James hurt anyone!" I walk out of the kitchen with Avery's laugh following me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "DAW-rin-eh" | The sisters come from a very Irish family.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me break here to say, I love Hampstead, but I don't live there. I don't know anyone who can afford to. My point is, I am aware there is most likely no residential building that fits the build of Jamie's flat as I've described it. I apologize if that detail distracts you from the story.
> 
> 1: MAH-me | endearment for mother, roughly 'Mummy' or 'Mommy', etc.  
> 2: uh VOUR-neen| "my darling"

Jamie's flat has a sliding door to her garden, I always found that super neat. It's just off her dining room too which is a nice view to eat by. I pause just inside the glass;Tom is there, standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at the buildings in the distance. Or maybe not, I don't know, Tom looks at a lot of things.

As I put weight on the handle, the door glides so easily along its track Tom doesn't notice it opening. I take care to close it the same. I'm stepping slowly across the concrete pad, silent now that I've lost my shoes. I hear him sigh the instant before I push my arms through the gaps of his elbows and squeeze him for all I'm worth. His hands immediately come out of his pockets as he twists around to see who's restrained him.

"Well hello there. You're rather popular tonight." He laughs a little, it doesn't sound right.

"It is my birthday, I don't know if you've noticed."

"I had noticed, and many happy returns to you."

"Thank you, now turn back around." He complies and I'm able to rest my forehead just at the top of his spine. Everything seems to spin a bit when I close my eyes. "Fuck you're warm."

"Are you not?"

"I was! Coming outside _sans_ coat may have been a poor choice."

"Here, come around front and I'll share."

"Hm?" My eyes are still closed, I may just sleep right here. Sleeping is suddenly an excellent idea.

"Come on, come round," He unclasps my hands and pulls at my arms until I move in front of him. He tucks his arms around my sides like I had done to him. His chin rests on the edge of my neck, I'm leaning my head back.

"Oh this is much nicer, brilliant in fact. Would you be terribly cross with me if I fell asleep like this?"

"Not at all, you're very comfortable. Though I make no promises to keep you upright, I'm not as young as I used to be."

"What is all this extra muscle for if not to catch swooning ladies?"

"Purely superficial, I assure you."

"Mm yes, well, you do take quite the picture."

He laughs softly. I open my eyes and take in Hampstead at night, which is just quiet enough to hear the leaves whispering in the wind. I don't know how Jamie nabbed a flat with a garden and a city view. I can't imagine how much she's paying for it.

"How have you been?" He murmurs. I feel it in my shoulder.

"I've been getting on. A little play, a lot of work. Those sounds don't design themselves."

I feel a hum, "You know I could help you with that. I do know a few people now."

"Come now, I don't need _Mamaí_ 1 Tommy on my birthday. I promise I will ask if I need a good reference." I bump my head into the side of his and he sighs.

"All right, Rio, as long as you're happy."

"I'm happy enough." I close my eyes again, the spinning has stopped. He is impossibly warm. "Nobody calls me Rio any more."

"I'll stop if you want."

"No, no, it's nice. It reminds me of happy times." I feel myself smiling as my mind tries to fish memories long past from the sea of alcohol.

"I see you've changed your hair. Bad breakup?"

I can't help barking out a laugh. "No Mr. Women's Studies, no breakups to speak of. This was Jamie actually. Apparently she's considering adding cosmetology to her extensive CV." I feel his left arm leave my waist and a hand pushes into my hair to feel the new length.

"Well I like it."

"Well I'll let her know."

He continues playing, moving his fingers this way and that.

"Tom if you keep that up I guarantee I will be asleep in the next two minutes." His arm comes back to rest. His hands are rougher than I remember. I only now notice we've been swaying gently.

"I hear you've been working entirely too much, _a mhuirnín_ 2.”

"I wouldn't say that. Keeping busy keeps me moving, keeps me happy."

"I believe you, I do. You look happy. All the same, don't let keeping busy keep you from living." A few seconds pass, I'm wondering if he may not have heard me.

"That was rather beautiful."

I breathe a laugh, "You're clearly deflecting, but I'll accept the compliment."

He chuckles, "It's nice to see you again Rio. I missed you brutally."

I coo and reach my right hand to pat the side of his face. "Ah, you've survived. It's not like you haven't had more important things to do. Meanwhile I can't be bothered to heed my own advice. I hadn't realised how much work I'd been taking on lately until Jamie gave me an earful. Between you, Day, and Avery I feel like I've missed out on so much. Not to mention how disconnected I feel with everyone from school. It feels wrong to say I’m really here with everyone."

"But you are here. Hey, you haven't skipped talking to a single person in there, and I know you're not entirely fond of all of them. None of these people would have made the trip if they felt disconnected from you, if they didn't love you. Don't get stuck in that negativity."

"That's easy for you to say, mister eternal ray of sunshine, rainbow sprinkled bonbon, light summer breeze, chocolate dipped ice cream." He shushes me.

"Don't bloody shush me!" I'm giggling like a child. He shushes again and I pinch the back of his hand.

"Oh my thornéd Irish flower what am I to do with you?" A very dramatic sigh.

"Don't call me a flower, to start!"

He apologises. I feel his nose just by my right ear.

"How can you not be a flower when you smell so exceptionally lovely? What is that, Dolce & Gabbana?"

I scoff, moving my head aside to give him my best glare. “There is alcohol and sweat seeping from every part of me and you know it. Is that what does it for you now?”

He shrugs, I snicker for a moment. The swaying is rather nice after all my thrashing about earlier. I don't think I can manage much else in the way of physical activity. Inside, the music has just been turned up loud enough to thump through the walls, and I can hear a syncopated bass rhythm. I feel him tapping on my hands to the beat.

"Oh! That reminds me! I was assaulted today!"

"You were what!" He nearly shrieks. I laugh, I suppose I should stop saying that so flippantly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to rafan4life and to BlondeRebellion, who bookmarked as well. Thanks to all for the kudos.

"Calm down, it wasn't serious." He's trying to pull away but I tighten my arms, it stills him after a moment. "Jamie thinks it was Jon. I didn't agree with her but I'm not interested in any further confrontations tonight. To be honest, I can't be sure who it was." I try to get him to sway again but he won't have it.

"How do you mean?"

"I was blindfolded earlier—" I hear him quickly inhale, the movement of it pushes me forward, "—no, shush! Listen!" I wait for an acknowledgement and take a breath to stay calm. I like to think I'm not predisposed to theatrics, but I am especially susceptible to joining them. He sighs in grumpy concession.

"Jamie put a blindfold on me before we were meant to set out, when I still thought we were actually about to set out. She left me in the hall to get her jacket, obviously now I see she wasn't getting her jacket but at that point I was alone, waiting for her to come back."

"Look—"

"Quiet. So while I was waiting, I was leant against the wall when out of nowhere someone starts kissing me. Not forcefully, mind, but very surprising. Honestly as kissing goes it wasn't bad, or rude, or otherwise uncomfortable. But then I remembered my circumstances and the fact that I was standing vulnerable in a hall I realised that it was very rude and extremely uncomfortable!"

"Ray—"

"I immediately put a stop to it and made my feelings well known and I demanded that this person identify themselves, though I don't know why I didn't immediately start screaming. The creep didn't say anything, he just kissed my cheek and ran away. I heard a door close, and I swear it was Jay's but I never did find out because Avery came round just as I went to check.

"The thing is, he knew _the taps_. Before he ran away he apologised with that Circle of Shame on my hand, you remember the Circle of Shame? That's why Jamie's insisting it was Jon. But I talked to Jon tonight and he was completely at ease, he couldn't stop talking about his baby nephew. But maybe she's right, how many people here know the taps?"

He stays quiet. I can feel his head resting on the back of mine, I can practically hear the scolding I'm about to receive.

"So, there it is. The Great Birthday Assault. It happened. It's over. I'll speak with Jon about it some other time, but I refuse to allow him to disrupt my birthday any more than he already has." I force a laugh, "That is, if Jamie hasn't already murdered him! She has been particularly fierce tonight." I'm trying to change the subject before we get stuck on repeat. "She was planning her attack before I finished the story."

"It was me, Rio."

It is a breath. It is barely a sound as it whispers past the hair on my neck and shivers down my back. I feel my head fall under the weight of such a little sentence. I've suddenly lost the strength to hold it up.

"I'm sorry?" Maybe I heard him wrong. Maybe he said 'mean', it was mean.

"I kissed you."

"What?" I can't find the tempo of this song. This isn't a beat I can dance to.

"I kissed you, Ríoghnach, it was me, in the hall." I hear my name, familiar and steady, and I pick up on the rhythm. My body catches up to my brain, I try to thrash out of his hold for the second time today. He won't let go so quickly now.

"You assaulted me!"

"I know— God— shit, I didn't—"

"Didn't realise you were assaulting me? Didn't learn the definition of it in your fucking semantics class?" I'm making myself dizzy trying to throw him off so I settle. He's got my arms pinned to my sides and his head pressed hard on my shoulder.

"I didn't mean to!"

"I'm going to sound this out. If you don't back off, right now, this will be the last time you see or hear me, let alone touch any part of me."

He lets go and I remind myself not to sprint away. Instead I march through the cold, wet grass to face him from the other side of the garden. By the time I turn around he's sat in a chair with his head in his hands. I flop onto the retaining wall and assume the same position.

A pressure forms behind my eyes, I wipe at them before choking it down. Happy tears are one thing, but I will not angry cry on my birthday. I'm doing my best to glower, but I can only hope it's convincing. I'm trying to suck in deep breaths and slowly exhale, otherwise I'll start shouting.

"What the fuck, Tom!" So much for that.

His hands drop, he straightens so fast his head falls back. "I am _sorry_!" I've moved farther away than he expected, his arm seems to reach out on its own. He tries to mask it by raking his hand through his hair before covering his mouth. A great idea, maybe he should have done that sooner. His eyes shift back to me and I can see the gleam of water. I nearly laugh; I've been assaulted and he gets to cry about it.

When he removes his hand, I hold mine up. I know I need another minute before he starts on some rambling monologue and he probably needs one to compose it in Aeolic verse.

"God! I'm just— I'm so furious with you! You're smarter than that! You're better than that!" My other hand comes up to flutter through whatever point I'm trying to make. "For as long as I've known you, and that's quite a while now, you have been decent and respectful, if a bit bawdy. And now you, I don't— I can't— what the fuck!"

I have the strongest need to push my own hair back, but I don't want to mimic him. I want to throw something at him. I want to stand on this wall and pace it to ash. I want to give him latitude. I don't want him to be the caricature he suddenly appears. I have to sit on my hands and wait for him to plead some substantial defence. I hear a deep inhale.

"It was just—"

"No."

"I never—"

"One more time."

"You were—"

"Thomas I swear if you so much as consider any synonym of 'control'—"

"I just wanted to kiss you Ríoghnach! Fuck!"

Well. Talk about surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early drafts of this had many more instances of musical terminology, including dynamic and tempo markings, which were intended to progressively denote Ray's emotional state. After a while it started to read very pretentious and they were all deleted. Good thing too, or I would have felt obligated to define all of them in the notes.
> 
> Aeolic is a verse format found in Ancient Greek lyric poetry, it seemed only fitting. It is actually a very interesting subject if you have a spare moment to look into it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: MAH-moh | endearment for grandmother  
> 2: uh KREE | "my heart"

I am surprised to say the least, I may have flinched. Not an exclamation I was expecting, but not some dismissive, detractive rubbish I've heard too often before.

"I hadn’t meant to kiss you in such a rude way," We’re watching one another, he seems convinced that I won't interrupt him, "but God have I wanted to kiss you." Both hands go through his hair. I cross my arms as the fire in my chest simmers. There's nothing to lean on, I'm forced into the posture of my childhood piano lessons.

"You were standing in the hall, as you said. Leaning against the wall, whistling some tune I couldn't pick out. I heard you before I saw you, as I always seem to. And there you were, beautiful as ever, waiting patiently."

I roll my eyes, but he's staring a hole into the ground and doesn't seem to notice.

"I was late arriving by about twenty minutes. I shouldn't have even been in the hall while you were. I had messaged Jamie, she said you had gotten here early, and that she would stall for as long as she could. The first thought I had was why you were alone out there, and blindfolded no less. Couldn't she have sent you on an errand?" He points vaguely in the direction of Jamie's door. It makes sense in hindsight, she could have asked me to stop somewhere before I arrived.

"My second thought, though it was honestly more on instinct, was to go in for a hug. I am a hugger, you know that!" He shrugs, chances a look up at me. I stifle a laugh but I can't help smiling, I immediately quash it when he notices. He drops his eyes again. "I couldn't do that without ruining your surprise. But goodness knows how long had it been since I'd seen you."

"Four months, give or take."

His head snaps up. He didn't expect me to answer that, I don't think he expected me to know.

"You think I didn't keep track? Do you understand how hopeless it is, trying to connect with someone and not knowing what fucking time zone they're in? Every time I—" I stop and sigh, before I'm on a monologue of my own. He's gawking at me. "I'm sorry. Please."

It’s a full eight count before he finds his train of thought again.

"Right, well, it had been four months. You're standing alone in a hallway, Jamie is nowhere to be found, I know I have to get through her door for the party, but I can't get to the door without getting by you."

"So my next thought, honestly, was that I should take off my shoes to sneak past. Which— I didn't do that, but I did genuinely try to tiptoe past you and I wish you could have seen me then, I felt like I was six years old sneaking down to open my Christmas presents early."

I can picture it vividly enough and I giggle, but when he smiles I set my face into a scowl. I have to be angry at him, I can't let my Righteous Indignation be charmed away.

"So I'm inching down the hall— a very long hall you know, and I'm so nearly past you, I'm right across from you when you gave me such a shock." He scoffs, "You scratched your nose." I'm terribly confused, I must look it. "That's all you did. Isn't that ridiculous?" He covers his face again, rustles his hair again. I'm staring, still waiting for an explanation.

"You, er, just on your wrist there." He gestures toward me. I look down.

 _Oh_.

"You scratched your nose, and sitting there on your wrist is a bracelet. A very nice bracelet, if I may say. The very nice bracelet I sent from China."

He had sent it, and it is very nice. I received it about two months into his latest absence. I tried quite a few times, via different channels, to thank him for it but I never heard back. I've only taken it off to shower.

"A bracelet made specifically for you." I look up, my mouth open. "I don't believe I ever mentioned that."

His attention is hard to withstand in this moment but where else can I look but at this stupid, beautiful thing on my wrist? Why hadn’t he said anything?

"It's not something you mention to a friend really, is it? I had a free moment to see Beijing, and I met the kindest older woman selling the most beautiful jewellery, all handmade. How silly would it be to tell you that I asked if she could make something special for me because, as lovely as her pieces were, none of them were deserving of you?" I look away to the grass between us, my eyes start to sting.

"How foolish would it be to say that she smiled and asked about the woman waiting for me back home? How pleased I was to describe you in stilted, Google-translated Mandarin as she sat and crafted that bracelet by hand in front of me? How happily dismissive she was when I insisted that I didn't actually 'have' you?"

I blink back to his face, he is watery and blurred.

"And as I stood in that very long hallway, how overcome I was to see that little thing resting so neatly next to what I've learned only tonight is a gift from your mother?"

"It belonged to _Mamó_ 1. Mum found one for Day too." I am weak. I barely recognise my voice, trembling and diluted.

"I know, I asked her earlier. You should have seen the look she gave me. Never let it be said the two of you aren't related." I breathe a laugh.

The hushed sounds of the night continue as we regard each other. I notice I’ve taken hold of his bracelet, moving it this way and that. I refuse to believe this is happening. I am not living a cliché, this is not the last twenty minutes of a romantic comedy. Tom is not going to pull out sheets of poster and tell me I am perfect.

I feel like I’ve reverted to primary school, peering to see if a boy is looking at me, then quickly looking away. I'm upset with myself for not being able to remain upset with him. I'm embarrassed that I'm crying, that I don't know why I'm crying. I can’t remember ever feeling embarrassed in front of Tom. All this and I can’t manage one coherent sentence.

"I.. I am not that strong, Rio," He breaks first. "I can't be that stoic, it goes against my programming, so to speak." He sounds closer.

I peek up again and he's standing, taking slow steps toward me. I am not prepared.

"Tom, wait—"

"I cannot apologise enough. I will continue to do so until you believe that I truly had no intention of making you uncomfortable. I certainly did not mean to assault you or cause you any harm, and I understand perfectly why you feel violated and distrustful of me right now."

"I'm so mad at you!" I'm whining, who am I?

"I know, _a chroí_ 2, and it is entirely my fault."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to bubbly_chirrup, much obliged.

I feel tears successively dripping. My throat constricts and I am officially a disgusting mess. I can do nothing but watch him close the distance as I gasp for air. He crouches before me, reaches past the barrier of my outstretched hands and gently cradles my face. I want to see his eyes but I can barely open mine without squinting and blinking. Have I mentioned that I feel like a child?

He brushes off the lingering tears then moves to sit beside me. I do my best to clean my face and be an adult, but it’s a wash at this point. He's surrounding me again, pulling me close; I crumple into him, trying to breathe deeply.

His voice is a low hum. "After I assaulted you, standing there 'holding you fucking prisoner' as you put it, I felt ..atrocious. I’m not denying what I had done was appalling and let me tell you, there was no shortage of guilt. Circle of Shame indeed." I laugh too quickly and end up coughing. He starts rubbing my back.

“You knocked the wind out of me. You’re very intimidating when you yell. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. How could I possibly defend myself? My behaviour? I panicked and ran into Jamie's."

"I very almost tried to break her door down."

"You did not!"

"I was going to kick it!"

"That would have been quite the surprise!" He laughs; it's the first time I've heard him truly laugh tonight, instead of the reserved tittering he's been doing. I realise that must have been because of me. It doesn't last long, but it's a beautiful thing to hear.

My breathing has evened, but I'm wringing my hands in my lap, and my face now feels tight from dried tears. Tom's hand shifts from my back to my shoulder. He's still so warm.

"Just before, just watching that bracelet glinting as you scratched your nose. A fourth thought occurred to me."

"Bullshit. Did you rehearse this?"

"I'm still trying to apologise." He smiles. "I considered how incredible it would be to kiss you right then. And after,” he pauses long enough to hear one cricket singing in the darkness, “then I considered how marvellous it would be if I could kiss you every day, anytime, whenever I felt so inclined."

The idea of acknowledging that I hadn't noticed such a conspicuous development in our friendship is quite alarming. I'm usually very good at recognising and comprehending emotions, it's a significant part of my career. I couldn't possibly— Could I?

Memories are bubbling up to the surface. As Tom and I became fully fledged creative professionals, we have progressed and matured, our stressors have changed, our lives have been erratic and incongruent. I honestly thought we were growing apart, I thought I had been grasping at the threads of a worn friendship, unravelling to a pile of well-loved string.

Apparently I have been spending too much time worrying over abstract feelings and neglecting my own.

What else could be said about wearing this stupid bracelet every day? How childishly excited I was to see a new message on my phone? Why I felt compelled to text him every day, to share every minutiae of my life with him? Honestly, I’m one harp glissando away from having hearts for eyes.

I have always been confident in my ability to discern subtleties in temperaments, moods, what have you. Tom has always challenged me; he's made a career out of conveying emotions but he's quite adept at masking his own. I take pride in understanding him on a deeper level, knowing what he wants when he doesn't feel up to talking about it. He's endlessly expressive, regardless of whether he means to be. I had thought that harmony was why we had remained close all this time. Except here I am, only now realising that I have been ignoring his expression for quite some time.

Maybe we were separated for too long, maybe he's just become a better actor.

"Why did you keep this from me? Since when do you withhold affection?"

"To be fair, I didn't intentionally keep 'this' from you. I know I've recently been absent more than not and communication has been difficult, but I never meant to withhold anything from you. Affection least of all."

"I don't know Tom. I'm a bit surprised, you may have noticed."

"Ray, I am truly sorry. You've always seen through me so easily I forget you can't actually know what I'm thinking."

I honestly don't know what to say. I don't know where to go from here. I don't know where I want to go from here, I certainly don't know where Tom is expecting we go from here, if he's expecting me to be part of a 'we' that goes anywhere at all.

Still, we will have to go somewhere and it seems we’re starting now, even if neither of us is particularly stellar at communication tonight. We've improvised our way this far, the only way out is through, right?

He waits for me to work through my thoughts. I close my eyes and concentrate on his warm hand on my cold right shoulder, his chest under my left.

"This is going to sound.. rough. I don't usually have a live audience," I hear a quick exhale, I hope it was a laugh. "I'm going to say whatever comes to mind and hope it works." I take a deep breath.

"Everything you just said was terrifyingly.. terrifying, and I don't know why, which makes it all the more terrifying really. I don't know if I feel guilty for ignoring your feelings or stupid for not realising you were feeling them in the first place. Why did we have to do this while I'm still exceptionally drunk?" He definitely laughs this time.

"Tom, you are incredibly important to me, I hope I've communicated that well enough. You helped me through Pembroke, through UAL, the general process of becoming a functioning adult. You're a huge part of the person I am today. There is a very small number of people who know me half as well as you, and I hope you would say the same for me. Watching you thrive and fulfil your dream has been obscenely exhilarating for someone on the sideline. You aren’t the same person I knew ten years ago, but you _are_  still someone I am extremely proud and thankful to have as a friend."

His hand has moved to my waist, I cross my arms again.

"I suppose I wasn't aware that I had been taking you for granted until you started to leave for increasingly longer periods. Something happens, called tinnitus, you might already know. It's that high-pitched drone in your head after a loud noise. When you leave, it’s like you take all that energy with you and I’m stuck with this constant ringing. You’re pretty great, for such a loud noise.”

“Thank you, I think."

"Admittedly I get a little resentful every now and then, a bit possessive, though I have no right to be. I'd be upset that you were far away with people I had never met."

He gasps, "Ríoghnach de Búrca, were you _jealous_?"

I shove back against him. "I am trying to be very sentimental and you sit there mocking me, ruining the mood, of course I was jealous! Combine that with virtual dead air and a person tends to think they've been forgotten, and you know my feelings regarding abandonment." I look up at him.

"You're right, I do, and I'm sorry for that as well." He looks down to me.

"I'm glad to hear that and I forgive you, but I'm not finished."

"By all means, please continue."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UAL | University of the Arts London (specifically London College of Communication), the real university where my fictional character received her fictional Master's Degree in the real Sound Arts course.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to ibeded as well as all the guests who were wonderful enough to leave kudos, I appreciate them very much. Apologies for the delay.

I feel a bit more composed now. I stretch my legs down and push away, counting four steps on the dewy lawn. I can see the clouded moon, I can hear muffled laughter.

"You keep getting further away, Tom. I was so thrilled when this bracelet showed up at my door, but as I said, it's been the only contact you've made with me in four months! And you've been back in the country for how long?"

"Three weeks."

"Three weeks! And nothing! Not even 'Hello friend, I'm still alive!' International roaming is one thing but you flat out ignored me. You were forgetting me and I was relegated to following you on Twitter and rehearsing my best 'I knew him when...' So you really do have to understand exactly why I'm so upset here!"

I look back at him, he's practically hanging his head in shame. Small victories, I suppose.

"You show up at _my_ party after months of ignoring me, spend the entire night evading me like I've got Black Death, and when I finally, _finally_ get to have a conversation with you, you tell me not only were you the degenerate who assaulted me in the fucking hallway but that you've apparently been harbouring some desperate attraction that I was supposed to magically pick up on because the classically trained actor suddenly forgot how to say words?

"And I'm supposed to feel, what, _flattered_ by all of this? How were you expecting me to respond? 'Oh dear, how is it that I could have possibly won the heart of the dashing hero? I am much too plain and homely to deserve such a man!' Ten fucking years I've known you!"

"Which is why I didn’t tell you! Ten years of amazing friendship would have been at risk! It wouldn't have been worth that. Not if it made you uncomfortable. Not if you pushed me away."

"You were afraid of me!"

"Yes I was fucking afraid! I had no clue how you'd react! You don't exactly have a sparkling record of handling surprises as tonight's earlier events can attest. Barring that, for someone who supposedly excels in all matters empathic it's hardly a secret you're goddamn terrible at maintaining a relationship! Frankly I made the responsible decision that it would be safer for both of us if I ignored those feelings and disregarded what I assumed would be a passing infatuation."

"Safer? You disregarded _me_! You ignored _me_! In the past four months you have all but told me to fuck off, so how passing was it? For someone who makes a living _pretending_ you did a terrible job of pretending to be my goddamn friend! Barring that, I've literally washed vomit from your hair so you'll have to excuse me if I'm having trouble believing the 'vulnerable' excuse."

"It's the only excuse I have, Ríoghnach!"

"Then try again, Thomas! You and I are far too old for this amateur shit. I'm cold, I’m tired, and now I’m mostly sober, none of which is working toward your benefit right now so I'd suggest taking it from the top."

His face is firmly in his hands. I realise I've advanced on him during my tirade, and I back up to give him room to breathe. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise me if he walked back inside and left without another word. He would be completely justified. Talk of empathy, I'm shouting at one of my best friends for being afraid to talk to me. Not my best work. I turn towards the overlook and wait, silent, allowing him a safe route to escape.

"For the life of me I don't know what to say here." I cast a glance back as he sits where I left him— probably as helpless as I felt in that position. "As ..childish as it sounds, I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't want to be hurt. And it may be overplayed but I didn't want to lose you as a friend. You’re a magnificent woman. I realise by making that choice I inflicted on you the isolation I so feared, I do know better than that. I never intended to make you doubt your importance or cause any feelings of abandonment. I sincerely apologise for not communicating properly and in that way lying by omission. I will furthermore continue to apologise for kissing you in the manner I did, though I don’t think I can truthfully apologise for something I don't regret."

He hasn't made a motion to leave, which is promising, but I can see him choosing his words.

"My attempt to suppress this infatuation over these past four months has done nothing to subdue the feeling of being near you. You're constantly worried about coming off as obnoxious, but you rarely are. You're overwhelming in the best possible way. How you look, how you think, how you live. You are a symphony with every step, filling my head with the most beautiful music. From our earliest days you've always had this effortless, bewildering ability of knowing what I need to hear and every person here tonight would say the same. I've seen you laugh and cry and everything in between. I've watched people come and go through your life; some have tried to play along and others have tried to change your tune altogether.”

I feel my eyebrows scrunched tight as I face him.

“But Ray, for all your benevolence you can be outright _devastating_ and right now there is no gentler way of saying that. I think you might have forgotten that I’ve known you as long as you’ve known me because I’ve heard your work and I’ve heard you _work_ and I have seen you destroy someone in less than three minutes. I have borne witness to the coldest shadows of your heart, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’m having trouble believing that you’re not aware of your own power when you know better than most how to reduce someone to tears. It’s so very interesting that you say you don’t usually have a live audience when you _always_ have a live audience, I’ve been among it for ten fucking years and it is a _terrifying_ place to be!”

It’s not often you find yourself the subject of your friend’s vitriolic outpouring. It’s even less frequent someone tears into you with such startling accuracy that you’re forced to confront your morality, or lack thereof. Of course he was scared, he knows what I'm capable of. He’s stood up now, and I'm frozen stiff as he regains his composure. I don’t recall ever seeing his eyes flash with such anger and accusation. I can’t avoid blinking back the shame that fills my own.

“Well,” my voice is high and tight, stuck in my throat, “you’re not so bad yourself.” It feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach, I’ve lost all breath support. I wipe my hands up my face, over my hair, to clasp them behind my neck. My elbows touch and I hide in the space between. “And that’s coming from _me_.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to start posting an unfinished piece in the middle of the semester. Honestly this particular chapter could be edited more (see also: better), in regards to the style I've already established here. That being said, it's been too long already and I just couldn't be bothered. Also, I've had two amazingly beautiful comments left in my absence by "Kristina" and skinnylittlered, whom I fully and enthusiastically recommend if you haven't already treated yourself to her work. 
> 
> 1: uh STORE | "my dear"

I turn away, eyes closed, listening for solace in the cold night. The music has quieted and I’m able to hear Tom’s soft steps as he reaches my side. I cross my arms, trying to breathe deeply.

“I’m sorry.” I can feel him giving me that genuinely-concerned look he does so well, though I’m not quite ready to see it.

“No, I suppose I deserved that. I did ask for honesty.”

“We bring such dramatics out in one another.”

“Says the actor,” I laugh through my teeth, “I think you had infatuation mixed up with irritation.”

“I didn’t.” I have to glare at him, he’s lost it. “Really!” I shake my head and focus on the buildings. “I’ve met a fair number of people since we’ve known each other. A rather large number, in fact. Great, average, intelligent, simple, compelling, boring, I have met more people than I dreamt I ever would. 

“I’ve had very few constants though, in all that time. Recent events have brought even more people into my daily life, and I won’t deny that there are some you haven’t met that I consider very important to me; it’s damn near inevitable not to make friends with someone you see ten hours every day. But I am at my most sincere when I say you have grown deep roots in an ever-expanding garden. You’re in the sunniest spot, where I keep all my most favourite flowers. I could go on with this metaphor!”

“God I hope you don’t!” I meant to laugh, but the sneering tone that comes out tears the smile from his face. He coughs.

“I know we’ve discussed this before. It is a genuine challenge to maintain relationships when I’m out of the country half the year, try as I might. When I miss months at a time, it feels disingenuous to suddenly pop back as though I never left. It’s so easy to neglect those who aren’t standing in front of you.”

I think better of making the biting comment on my tongue.

“I didn’t know Paul’s father had passed until this past June; he was understanding but I’m under no illusion that any consolation I offered was tarnished by my absence. And you’re right, a person tends to think they’ve been forgotten. I come back and I’ve forgotten who’s told me what, I’ve brought up relationships that have ended months prior, I’m reduced to small talk with some of my dearest friends and I hate it. I couldn’t tell you the names of half the people here tonight.”

It’s my turn to watch him as he watches the city, hands shoved in his pockets The pain in his voice keeps a tight grip on my chest. I can’t empathise with him and it leaves me voiceless. I travelled to a five day conference last year in Berlin; sound design just isn’t a profession that calls for extensive travel. Apart from a few long weekends, I’m here, I’m always here.

“You’ve seen my mother more than I have this year.”

I practically jump in front of him, taking his face in my hands. He flinches beneath them.

“That doesn’t mean you’re a bad person! None of that means you’re a bad person! You know this, we’ve done this! Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know Ray, maybe I never accepted the idea that my personal life had to suffer in order for my career to thrive. Maybe I haven’t adjusted to living out of a suitcase as well as everyone seems to think. Maybe it’s extremely demoralising to know that I’m half a world away when people I love need me here!” He shakes as his hands emphasise his point, breathes quickly as his lungs run short on air.

It’s an effort to keep calm and keep my eyes focused on his. This frustration will lead us back to arguing and I can’t have that again. My thumbs gently brush against his cheeks until his jaw loosens, brow relaxes.  

“ _A stór_ 1,” I smile. He tries. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick but, rarely does anyone need you to be _here_.” He scoffs. “I promise the people that love you, myself included, don’t need you to be anything except happy. I can also promise your mother gets enough excitement without you running amok in her home.” 

I move from his face, over his shoulders, down his arms to hold each of his hands in my own. “I was never upset because you went away, or for taking the opportunity to do the work you love. I think you know that.”

Stepping closer, I lift my arms to rest around his waist and press my cheek into his chest. I count five heartbeats before he hugs back. Its a pleasant surprise when we start swaying again.

“Within the last six months you went from my best friend to pen pal to Busy Celebrity without so much as an apology, and that was very unlike the man I knew. At first I _was_ jealous. I was angry and “how dare he” that you were off having fun without me. But if I’m honest, I was fighting the realisation that you didn’t need me any more.”

We stop abruptly as he pulls back, frowning like I’ve insulted his favourite poem. “That’s not true.”

“You never said otherwise, you didn’t say anything.”

He pushes away, “Alright then, you want me to say something?” I grab at his arms.

“No.” I glare up at him, “If this is going to be a fight it’s going to be _the_ fight and I will let you leave and live guilt-free but you will look me in the eye before you abandon me again.”

He softens immediately, speechless for a moment, then motions toward the dining set. I’m led to a black wicker chair that stays suspiciously silent as I sit down. Tom drags over his chair from earlier, scraping loudly across the concrete. It’s unsettling to rest against the back, and our knees touch as I scoot up to the edge. I watch his hands as they fidget on his thighs, waiting for him to look at me again.

“I knew how long this trip would keep me away; I knew it would be the latest in a series of disappearances, the end of which I couldn’t predict. I had acknowledged my romantic.. inclinations toward you and after very serious consideration it was apparent that no good could come of pursuing them, or you, in that way.”

I am left to wonder what ‘no good’ might have entailed.

“That’s what the bracelet was for. That was supposed to be ‘goodbye’ in my own cowardly fashion. I guess I would have rather you hate me for a ruined friendship than resent me for a failed relationship.

“If that’s the case why bother coming tonight? Why do that to yourself? Why do that to me?”

“You know, I’ve been trying to work that out since Jamie’s door slammed behind me. I knew you would call me out on my behaviour, as you absolutely should have. Then I made _that_ brilliant decision and I almost wish you would have hauled off and clocked me before I ran away.”

“Oh, you and I both.” We laugh together.

“Maybe I missed arguing with you. Maybe I just wanted to see you again; one last time, as it were. But then I found you alone in the hall and I was back where I started. And then you were crying and laughing and singing and dancing and it finally occurred to me that to shut you out, to abandon you was the most idiotic, ill-advised decision I could have made.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's not discuss consistency.

I can’t help but laugh, “I would have said selfish, but idiotic serves well too.”

“Selfish?”

“You’re not seeing it?"

“No. I mean, the whole point of my ignoring you, and I don’t deny that I did, was to prevent you from having to deal with my shit.”

“Ah, I’ve dealt with your shit for ten years. You honestly thought your busier schedule would have been my breaking point?”

“No, I honestly thought the idea of being involved with me would have done it. ”

“That’s curious as you’ve only tonight consulted me about said idea.” I want to ask what we are after ten years if not _involved_. He sighs and slumps back in his seat.

“I don’t— I’ve already acknowledged that the decision was engendered by my own insecurities, and though I can see now it was inherently flawed, there was distinct consideration for yours as well.” Well, how gracious to consider my insecurities, praise be.

“I feel like I’ve explained that said decision, despite your newfound perspective on it, was complete shite?”

I’m going to be held responsible for the divot Tom’s worn into the back of his neck.

“What would you have had me do? I don’t know if you’ve been following but there’s a disturbing trend regarding the women I’ve recently been with.” Our eyes meet again and I can’t figure if he’s searching for condolence or challenging me to deny the minefield his ‘dating’ life has become.

“As if I haven’t met them all? As if I haven’t been there for you when they left?”

He jolts forward, elbows to his knees, “There it is! They’ve left! They’ve all left! Whether it was my schedule or the godforsaken press, and I can’t blame any of them for one second. They leave and I waste a few days wallowing and at some point you stand me upright and dust me off because you’re _there_! You’re always there!”

“Wait, I’m sorry, are you mad at me for that?”

“No! No, absolutely not. But I’ve realised, I think, at the core of all of this exhaustive defence was the deep-seated fear, the not _entirely_ rational fear, that if I tried, if you and I— we, you would..” The soft sigh as he trails off feels heavy with guilt, almost embarrassment as what he thought was perfectly sound logic cracked beneath the weight of being spoken aloud. His head drops below his shoulders.

“You thought I would leave too.”

“Yeah.” The most contrite eyes look up to me for compassion. If he had started with that, this whole disaster could have been over before it started. “You’d just be another name on the list. And if you left, who would be left to be there, you know?”

“Apart from your hundreds of other friends?”

“I did mention it wasn’t entirely rational.”

I stretch forward, taking the chance to ruffle the mess he’s made of his hair. “I’ll allow it, if only because it’s so damn endearing.”

“I wanted to prevent that from happening. I wanted to prevent _this_ from happening.”

“Really? But I’m so glad this is happening!” He laughs, a shimmering sound of disbelief. “Come on, you’re the one always going on about  _action_  despite fear, being excited instead of nervous. Deny it!”

He shrugs.

“That’s what's got me so confused. What was so terrifying that you couldn’t manage even a little excitement for me? This whole time you’ve been convinced that I would never want to be with you, but you never bothered to ask if I would ever want to be with you, so where would you have gotten that idea?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth I know I may not want the answer just now. “Actually, hang on, we’ll come back to that,” I laugh as I see the smallest smile creep to his face.

I reach for his hands, gently pulling him to lean toward me. I turn them over, trace a path from his wrists to his fingers when he curls them in, trapping mine. I can just barely hear him breathing.

I suppose it’s my turn to be vulnerable.

“For as long as I’ve known you, and that’s quite a while now, you have been so good to me. How could I not want to be with someone who makes me feel respected and appreciated and special and powerful?” I realise I’ve been speaking directly to our hands, and when I look up I find such pure affection on the man’s face I very nearly melt. “How could I not want to be with you when you make me feel so.. safe.. and loved?”

Had I known this morning that I would spend a chunk of my birthday scrutinising the state of a ten year friendship to the point of tears, I would have stayed safe in my bed. Now, on the edge of a very stiff chair, exhausted and cold, staring at my brilliant, beautiful idiot, I can’t think of any place more appealing. What a sap.

“Now,” I sniff, “I will gladly forgive your poor decision earlier, and even your inadvertently hurtful behaviour these past few months, but only if you can forgive me for causing you such anxiety. You have enough to deal with, I never want to be an obstacle blocking your path to happiness.”

“I suppose I may have deserved it.”

“Deserved or not, I’d like to move past it, if possible.”

“Absolutely possible. Done.”

“Fantastic. Come here please.”

I drag him with me as I stand up and wrap my arms around him, winding my hands into the sides of his coat and up his back. The warmth of him and the weight of his arms holding me firm is so relaxing I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Time slips by unheeded as we sway gently. I can't remember ever feeling so content.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most gracious thanks to everyone who gave my little story a chance! I know it's not the most exciting and certainly not the most lascivious, but I've truly enjoyed writing it and I hope you've enjoyed reading it, if only a little. 
> 
> And for those of you who couldn't be bothered, if you were wondering why this is so repetitive: 
> 
> Fugue: a [musical] composition in which a short melody or phrase is introduced by one part and successively taken up by others and developed by interweaving the parts.
> 
>  
> 
> 1: uh YHRAH gyal | boy/girl friend, literally "my bright love"  
> 2: AH-lin | lovely, beautiful

“What’s next?” His voice is heavy and low, it occurs to me he’s probably exhausted too. “What do you want to do?”

“Honestly?”

“It is your birthday after all.”

“I’d like to go home. You’ve run me through quite a gauntlet."

“I’m sorry—”

I pull back, “No I’m sorry, let me rephrase that: I’d like you to come home with me.”  
  
“What, really?” He nearly coughs.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now!”

“Right, of course, no, yes.”

 “This wasn’t the most efficient conversation we’ve ever had, and if you’re serious about starting down this particular road, I think it deserves a thorough dissection, but right now I could really do with a bit of a cuddle.”

“That could be arranged, I’m sure.”

“Wonderful!”

He smiles timidly, glancing over my head. “You may have to explain our departure to your guests.”

“ _A ghrá geal_ 1, it is my birthday, I don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“While I agree wholeheartedly, your sister may not take kindly to the idea.”

“Ah shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut and laugh. “Is she right at the door yeah?”

“I think she’s trying to be invisible but she’s literally _glaring_ at me.”

I turn my head quick enough to catch a glimpse of her as she darts out of sight.

“Christ.” I sigh, looking back. “You know, it’s not like they’re _my_ guests anyway. _I_ didn’t invite them."

Tom moves his arms away, then pries mine from under his jacket. “I know darling, the quicker you do it the quicker it will be over.”

“Let it be known that I don’t appreciate you being responsible and mature when I’m trying to be spontaneous and romantic.” I am gifted the softest kiss on my forehead.

“Noted.”

“I never said it was okay to kiss me!” I smile.

He makes a show of wiping clean the spot he kissed and smiles back. “Also noted.”

“Come on.” I walk to the door.

Wouldn't you know it, the fucking thing is locked.

“This is a joke.” I yank the handle a few more times for good measure, “This - is - a - joke!”

“What’s happened?” Obviously the man has to try. He then very solemnly looks to me, “I didn’t do that.” My eyebrow seems to raise on its own.

“Excuse me,” I gently move him aside and begin pounding against the glass. “Dáiríne de Búrca so help me! I know where you live!” That’s a lie, but it’s the most threatening thing I could think of.

Jamie’s flat is still full, yet not one person seems to notice my outburst. After a moment I give up and step backward.

I’m about to ask Tom for his mobile when my sister casually strolls from the kitchen with a ridiculous grin, pretending we couldn’t all hear the loud clack of the latch as she effortlessly pushes it open, drink firmly in hand.

“Everything all right?”

I try to look angry, but it’s all I can do to refrain from laughing at her terrible acting. “Never let it be said you aren’t subtle, Day.” I wrap her in a long hug as Tom steps in and slides the door closed. “I’m going to go.”

“So soon?” Her feigned shock is so adorable I want to stay for more.

“It’s been hours!” 

“Well, if you insist! I hope you had fun at your party.” I move away and hold her free hand.   
  
“I did. I’m so glad you could be here! Will you be staying in town?”

“All week, _álainn_ 2.”

“Then I will see you again soon!” We share cheek kisses. 

“Is _Tom_ leaving too?” She affects innocent eyes.

“Yes, is Tom leaving _too_?” I turn quickly to find Jamie smiling behind me, with Avery standing next to her like the cat that ate the canary.

“Yes! _We_ are leaving! And _we_ do not think any of you are funny!” As I’m saying this Tom is taking the time to hug each of them, giggling as he does. “And you have my—!” Jamie holds her palm up into which Avery dramatically slaps down my phone. My mouth clicks shut, I squint at the pair of them.

“I don’t suppose you have my shoes in your back pocket, do you?”

“Of course not!” Right, how silly of me. “I put them just over here,” She leads me back to her bedroom where I lean against the wall to strap on my heels.

“You could have sat down.”

“I may not have been able to get up, I’m so ready for bed.”

“I’m sure you are!” I nearly fall over as I try to scowl up at her while balancing in one shoe. She laughs until she’s coughing. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t not!” Now I’m upright and scowling, and she laughs on, “Oh gosh, please don’t be mad at me!”

I break down and laugh with her, “I couldn’t possibly James. I can’t thank you enough for doing all this for me. You know you’re the best,” She holds her arms out to me, in these shoes I have to crouch to hug her properly. “Even if you do conspire against me.”

“I haven’t the foggiest what you could possibly be referring to. You deserve the world lovely, but sometimes you’re so deep in work you can’t see what you’ve already got!”

“That was rather beautiful.”

“I’m no sound designer, but I do what I can.”

We walk back to the masses, collecting discarded cups as we go. Tom is unsurprisingly caught in a very animated conversation with my sister and Avery, God knows what about. Jamie and I hug once more before she safely returns the cups to her kitchen. I begin to wave at everyone I pass, thanking them for celebrating with me and promising to catch up soon. I see Avery and Tom share a very masculine embrace and Day practically jumps to kiss him on the cheek; everyone smiles as I approach. Jamie was unquestionably right, I’ve got quite a lot.

“I’m ready when you are!”

“Let’s be off then. After you, madame.”

I stop in front of Avery to steal a quick hug, whispering a thank you in his ear. He’s beaming when we separate, “Anytime, Ray. Don’t be a stranger!”

“Never!” I start towards the door. As Tom pulls it open I turn around and shout one last goodbye to my friends. I see a few hands waving as they shout back at me. The sting of happy tears hits me as I step backward into the hall and I can’t help the grin that stretches my face. After the door shuts behind him, Tom reaches for my hands.

“Did you enjoy your party?”

His eyes hold such kindness for me and his own wide smile makes me that much happier. I chuckle, tapping once on his right wrist. It means ' _yes_ '.

“Oh is that how you’re going to be?” He tries mocking my laugh.

 Another tap, another _yes_.

“In retrospect, I can see how this would be upsetting." I raise my eyebrows, nodding smugly. "Since we’re talking, could you tell me what _a ghrá geal_ translates to? I don’t know that one.”

I look down at our hands, tracing a circle on his arm, I'm just _so sorry_ I can't answer him right now.

“Yes well you should be, you know, when you don’t properly communicate with the people you love, there’s a huge risk that very important details may be misunderstood or even ignored, not even necessarily with the intention of upsetting one another, but so often it seems a small misunderstanding can lead to a deeper rift between those who were once close — which is honestly quite tragic as both parties may still care deeply for the other yet have trapped themselves in this kind of closed circuit of punishment and shame they may never be able to repair,”

I feel my mouth hanging open. I’m caught staring in disbelief, his attention still soft and kind.

“When really all of that pain could have all been prevented by honest and open communication.”

Okay then.

I reach out and push hard at his ribs and he stumbles. His confusion is to my advantage, I’m able to grab his arms and push him backward. The hallway echoes the heavy thud of him hitting the wall. He realises my intention the instant I run my hands over his neck and into his hair.

There are the respective thrills of shoving someone, and kissing against a wall, and there is the combined thrill of well, shoving someone into a wall and having your way with them until the both of you run short of breath. Luckily for me I’m kissing a person who seems fairly excited about both parts of the experience. Of course, that’s assuming the hard-on and the hand grabbing my arse are anything to go by.

“Ray?”

No. Please no.

“Ra-ay?”

“This has to be a joke,” I sigh as I drop my head onto Tom’s shoulder. I hear him breathe a laugh as he tries to compose himself.

“Oh Ríogh-nach!”

The quicker you do it, I suppose!

“Yes Jamie?” My pompous confidence lasts just until I turn to see Jamie standing in her doorway, flanked and reinforced by every single party guest I didn’t invite. She is red-faced and tearing up from the laughter she’s holding in, which triggers my own reluctant smile. My face feels so hot I can only imagine how ridiculous I look at this moment. I whisper back to Tom, hoping to save him some dignity, “Go, just go, just.. start walking!”

Jamie has to start three times before she can speak without giggling. “You left your keys!” She extends them out to me, a treat I can have for performing such a great trick for everyone, but only if I walk back to her door.

Just as I have them in my fingers, someone in the back calls out, “Ow, yes girl!” The group descends into laughter and Jamie drops my keys on the floor. I snatch them up, laughing along with them as I turn away, scurrying back to Tom who’s waiting for me, safe at the end of the hall.

“Leave me alone, it’s my birthday!”


End file.
